


First impressions

by vaguely_concerned



Series: Scoundrels and Thieves 'verse [13]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, young mchanzo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 11:39:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8247424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaguely_concerned/pseuds/vaguely_concerned
Summary: They steal some time together and talk about first impressions.





	

 He’d been waiting the whole damn month. Even Hubert had commented on him being restless - Hubert, who had once walked around with a giant hole in the back of his pants for a month and would have done so for longer if some of the boys hadn’t taken pity on him. When he took notice of anything you knew you might as well have a goddamn neon sign blinking on your forehead.

“What’s got you flitting about like someone set your ass on fire, kid?” he asked, leaning against a boulder and squinting at Jesse over his coffee cup. “Haven’t seen you sit still for weeks.”

“Nothin’,” Jesse said, weighing the revolver in his hand. “Just restless, is all.”

“Uh- _huh_.”

“Don’t you ‘uh- _huh_ ’ me, old man.”

Hubert made an unconcerned noise and looked down Jesse’s improvised firing range - shooting bottles was never going to be much of a challenge, but he’d tried to set them up in tricky places. For the one behind the sign he’d have to bounce the bullet off three other surfaces first. It would do. “I’m seventy two years old. I’ve earned the right to ‘uh-huh’ as much as I damn well please.”

Jesse held his hands up, conceding this, before loading the revolver. He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head of anything except lining up the shot.

“Got a feeling I know what it’s all about too,” Hubert said, with what he must fondly imagine to be shrewdness.

“Feel free to just bottle that feeling up unhealthily like a real man.” Jesse pulled the trigger, then again, bottles exploding in small showers of glass one after the other.

Hubert waved the joke away. “Hey, if you’ve found yourself a special g - “ he closed one eye and peered more closely at Jesse, “person, that ain’t nothin’ to scoff at in this day and age.”

Jesse realized too late that his head had drifted off to somewhere else; the last shot barely grazed the neck of the bottle. He sighed.

There was a cackle from Hubert. ”Oh, you’ve got something on your mind, alright. Haven’t seen you miss a shot like that since you were ten. Aw, young love. Makes fools of us all.”

Jesse gritted his teeth and rolled himself a cigarette. ”Pretty sure I got the fool part down all on my own.”

”Now now, there’s no call for that.”

Being hassled about it was kind of nice, actually. He hadn’t thought anyone would care enough to bother. They stood there in a companionable silence for a while, Jesse smoking and Hubert slurping his coffee. Jesse thought about Hanzo’s voice on the phone yesterday – he’d seemed lighter than usual, easier to startle a laugh out of. His father must be doing better again. Or maybe Genji had come home for a spell.

Eventually Hubert glanced at him sideways with what could only be described as an impish air. ”You want some pointers, though? Because let me tell you, this old dog has picked up quite a few tricks in the ways of the heart over the – ”

”Might wanna stop right there, or I’ll have to throw myself off the cliff.”

Hubert tipped his head to the side amiably. ”Fair enough. You’ll figure it out on your own.”

”It ain’t rocket science,” Jesse agreed.

”Oh, I could tell you stories, boy,” he said darkly. ”These things get real complicated real fast.”

”Mhm. I’ll take your word for it.”

Jesse started reloading the revolver, a simple comfort in the muscle memory of the act.

Hubert finished his coffee. “Word is you’re not gonna be around much for the next few weeks.”

Jesse didn’t look up from reloading. “Yeah. Apparently I’m  goin’ across the pond on Saturday. On my own dime, of course. Lucky me.”

”Hey now, it can’t be that bad. Lotsa...” The wrinkles in his forehead deepened. ”...culture over there. Ruins and paintings and whatnot. Never been there myself, but I’ve seen the vids – would have liked to go there when I was younger but... well. Didn’t work out that way.”

Jesse thought about Hanzo’s chest flushing sweetly whenever he was getting close, the way his face went warm and unguarded with afterglow, about getting to run his fingers through his long dark hair. ”I guess it has its merits,” he said, sounding strangled to his own ears.

”Right. Well, I should be gettin’ on with things. Got a rust bucket that needs some TLC. Good luck over there.” He patted Jesse’s arm and ambled down the road towards the garage.

 

\---

 

These days Jesse felt like someone had taken him apart and put him back together using instructions from a different manual, everything new and clumsy and untried. He found he didn’t mind so much.

 

\---

 

 

Jesse rested his fingers under Hanzo’s chin and tilted his face up for a kiss - Hanzo made a slightly confused but entirely pleased sound and looked at him with all the guile of a newborn kitten. There was still a light sheen of sweat over his forehead.

”Well, hello to you too,” Jesse mumbled, kissing the tip of Hanzo’s nose before letting his head fall back against the pillow. ”Don’t think I got the time to say that before.”

”...there were more important things to get to first.”

”Very true.” It was a nice bed in a nice room in a nice hotel; Hanzo had picked it and so of course it was, but it wasn’t the posh kind that made Jesse painfully aware that normally people like him would only be let in after a thorough decontamination.

Hanzo’s eyes slid closed and after a few minutes he started making the small noises that meant he’d fallen asleep. Jesse was feeling the jet lag himself. He pulled the covers up over Hanzo’s shoulders and dozed a bit too, feeling at peace with the universe at large. When he woke up again Hanzo was trailing the backs of his fingers up and down his arm and humming quietly to himself.

”Missed you,” Jesse murmured, sleep-muddled and instinctive. Hanzo paused for a second, then stretched up to press his lips to Jesse’s jaw before settling back against him. Jesse waited for the small pang of panic to come, but it didn’t. In fact he’d say it again, any time, maybe even double down with ’I love you’. When had that happened. He stared at the ceiling.

”I missed you too,” Hanzo clarified after a while. ”Obviously.”

Jesse grinned and shook himself out of it. “That’s nice to know. How’d my lead pan out, by the way?”

“Hm?” Hanzo said from where he lay with his face mashed into Jesse’s shoulder.

“About that guy I know who knows someone who knows someone who knows someone’s aunt. The Russian thing.”

“Oh, that. I am not sure. The aunt seemed rather… indiscreet. She might have been drunk,” he added, like it had only just occurred to him.

“Indiscreet?”

“...handsy.”

“Oh my god.”

“Exactly. Stop laughing or I will end you.”

“Who’s laughing?” Jesse wheezed.

“ _Ugh._ ”

Jesse deftly avoided the poke aimed at his shoulder. “For what it’s worth I’m sorry for sending you into her clutches, then.”

“Thank you. I feel much better now.”

“But seriously, you should give it another shot. They’re the best at what they do, and they pay well if you get ‘em something worthwhile. Maybe talk to one of the others, though. Wouldn’t want there to be any groping you’re not a hundred percent enthusiastic about.”

“Hm. Maybe. I usually trust my instinct in matters like that.”

“See, I don’t know about that. First impressions ain’t everything.”

“How so?”

Jesse rolled over on his side and supported his head with a hand so he could look at him. “Well. To begin with I thought _you_ were the most condescending sonovabitch I’d ever met.” He considered it. “No, make that the first five times we talked. I just thought you were bein’ condescending with an accent of camaraderie.”

Hanzo blinked at him in surprise, the sheets sliding down his chest. Jesse had to restrain himself from reaching out and tugging them even further. “I was nervous.”

“Huh?”

“It was the first deal I brokered on my own, of course I was. I thought it was obvious to everyone within a hundred miles.”

Jesse pushed up on his elbow to stare down at him. “Seemed to me like you were looking down your nose at me.”

“I was mostly confused, to be honest. You are very… dramatic at first glance.”

“What?”

“The hat,” Hanzo said. “It is the hat. And the boots. And the appalling b- “

“Don’t you go dragging my belt buckle into this. It’s _cool_.”

“It's not, but I will allow you the delusion if it gives you peace of mind. It does have a certain hypnotic quality, I suppose.”

Jesse laughed. “And there I was thinkin’ you just didn’t know how to smile. Little did I suspect you were actually transfixed by my general crotch area all along. We live and learn, don’t we.”

“I was trying to show respect! I wanted you to know I took it seriously!”

Jesse tucked his face against Hanzo’s chest and chortled, fighting him off when he made an indignant sound and reached down to tickle him between the ribs.

Hanzo grumbled and pulled the pillow over his face, murmuring something uncomplimentary about Americans. Jesse patted his arm.

“I also thought you were kinda cute, if that helps. In a ‘could probably break every bone in my body with his little finger’ sorta way.”

“Do not tempt me.” His voice was muffled by the pillow; Jesse hauled him in and smacked a kiss to his temple. Hanzo groaned but graciously allowed him to scatter a few more kisses over his forehead. When he peeked out again his cheeks were slightly pink - Jesse had to reach out and smooth a thumb over one sharp eyebrow. ”...you had _spurs_ on your _boots_.”

”I’m a man committed to a theme. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.”

The sound Hanzo made was not quite a giggle, but it would have had to present some compelling evidence to prove it in a court of law. “Fine. _Fine_ , if you insist they are trustworthy I will consider giving it another chance.”

“Well, sayin’ that… you can never truly know someone, can you. I mean, apparently _you_ meet up with lecherous Russian women on the side. Should I be jealous?”

Hanzo ran a finger down Jesse’s chest. “Why yes, this is exactly how I treat all my business contacts.”

“No wonder you guys are doing so well, then.” Hanzo flipped him over on his back and straddled his hips, effortlessly pinning his hands to the bed. Jesse’s heart did a cartwheel against his ribs and he couldn’t stop a breathless laugh from escaping.

Hanzo leaned down so that his hair fell around Jesse’s face like dark curtains. There was a definite smugness to his smile now. “Hm. I lied. This is a once-in-a-lifetime, highly exclusive kind of deal.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I’d hate to be just another humdrum coupon purchase.”

Hanzo nuzzled in and kissed him, with a slightly proprietary air that made Jesse’s toes curl under the covers. Jesus Christ. He was in so much trouble. Hanzo grinned against Jesse’s mouth and bit lightly at his lip, dragging a helpless moan out of him – he slid his hand down to the small of Hanzo’s back and then further down, pulling him in closer between his legs. Hands cupped his face; he closed his eyes. Hanzo’s lips were soft and languid, sliding against Jesse’s like they had all day and all night and all day again, and it set off fireworks in his chest, turned his head into one of the classier kinds of circus where the ringmaster was happily drunk and let the clowns go home early. Despite all evidence to the contrary the world seemed like a pretty fantastic place to be right then.

He wrapped his thighs around Hanzo’s hips, arching up suggestively and lifting an eyebrow. Hanzo’s breath stuttered audibly.

“Round two?” Jesse husked, because that tone of voice always made Hanzo’s eyes glaze over and it was a wonderful mix of hilarious and hot.

”Anything you want,” Hanzo said quietly.  Before Jesse could quite process the strange earnestness the words were delivered with he was being kissed again, vigorously and amazingly, and he decided to just go with it.

Round two was as good as round one but with more hickeys.

“How long are you gonna be in town?” Jesse asked afterwards, trying to make it sound casual.

Hanzo’s fingers paused where they were stroking through his hair. “I need to be back in two days.”

“Right.” Jesse’s heart plummeted into his stomach. “Guess your folks would get suspicious if you’re gone for too long.”

“Mhm.” He resumed moving his fingers. “I might be able to… I think I can free up a month sometime soon.”

Jesse felt his heart bounce back up like it had landed on a trampoline down there, somersaults and ten out of ten from the judges. “That’d be good.”

“Yes. There is something coming up that will keep them all occupied for a while. I would not want to be there for it anyway. Their plan seems - well. Excessive. I do not think I will be needed.”

The steady rhythm of Hanzo’s heart under his ear made him feel a little dizzy. “Do any of them know about…”

“I think my father has his suspicions. He has a disturbing tendency to notice everything.” He must have felt Jesse’s gaze on the side of his face, because he added: “He would never tell anyone.”

The certainty in his voice was reassuring, anyway. “How ‘bout your brother?”

“...I shudder to even think of it.”

Jesse chuckled. “You’re too hard on him. Genji seems like a nice kid.”

Hanzo sighed. “He might be, but he never takes anything seriously. If he keeps on like this he will never amount to anything.”

“Hell, he’s what - eighteen?” Hanzo gave a grunt of confirmation. “Being irresponsible little shits is what teenagers have done since time immemorial. He’ll get there.”

“Hm.” Hanzo ran his fingers over Jesse’s chest, stroking through the curly hair. “Perhaps you have a point.”

“First time for everything, right?”  

“Wonders never cease,” Hanzo agreed.

Jesse slung his arm over Hanzo’s waist and snuggled closer to him. The room was clean with sunlight. The sheets smelled like Hanzo instead of hotel detergent now. He never wanted to leave. ”We should elope,” he said. ”Slink off into the night and... I dunno, walk the earth, righting wrongs and bringing miscreants to justice, that sorta thing.”

Hanzo laughed and kissed the top of his head. ”Jesse – I realize that you may have forgotten this in all the excitement, but we _are_ the miscreants.”

”Meh, I’m not married to this line of work. I could go along with a career change if need be. If anyone’s in need of a gunslinger I already got the outfit.”

It was a joke, but it occasionally did bother him that if he’d been a character in one of the old movies you’d be hard pressed to say if he was a villain or just a charmingly roguish hero. He tried not to think about that too much. Oh well, at least the pay was better here on the morally murkier end of the spectrum.

”If you can convince the family elders that vigilante justice would be a remunerative new direction for us to pursue,” Hanzo said, ”I would gladly come with you anywhere.”

”You just have to crush all my hopes and dreams, don’t you.”

Hanzo stroked his hair. ”One of us has to be the realist.”

Jesse had never seen eye to eye with reality before, but now he felt it was slowly becoming his nemesis. ”Seems unambitious.”

”You would think so.” He hugged Jesse tightly, the smile deepening his voice.

”You know me,” Jesse said, taking Hanzo’s hand in his. ”Dream big, get yourself a good hat, worry about the rest later.”

Too bad this particular, most desperate dream of his had the whole damn Shimada clan standing in the way of it.

 

\-------

 

Jesse was in the middle of making himself breakfast when Hubert came slinking into the diner, grinning hugely.

“Heard some of the boys say you’d seen fit to return to us. Good to have you back, kid.”

“Good to be back. Was starting to miss the smell of men sweating in leather pants.”

“Aw, the things you say.”

Jesse smiled and heaped the eggs and bacon over on a plate. He whistled under his breath as he put the plate down on the table and went hunting for clean cutlery.

“There you go, waltzing around the place like a little beam of sunlight. Guess I was right in my suspicions, loverboy.”

“You should go see a doctor, old man,” Jesse said, pouring himself some coffee. “Get your head looked at. You haven’t been the same since the spanner incident.”

Hubert just chuckled knowingly to himself.  “Ain’t nothing to be embarrassed about, boy, I know what young people’re like. Used to be one of ’em myself, though I know it’s hard to believe now. Had me a girl once who was a racing driver. I was her mechanic - got to do service on more than one kind of chassis, if you catch my drift.” He completely ignored Jesse choking on his coffee. “Would have done anything for her.“

“So what happened?” Jesse dutifully filled the not-so-subtle pause, wiping  the coffee off his shirt as best he could with paper napkins. “You settle down with her to have lots of little Hubertlets?”

“She stole all my tools and ran off with the mailman.”

“...what a beautiful story, Hubert. Real touching.”

“Now, I’m not sayin’ it’ll turn out that way for you. God forbid. That mailman had a squint so bad he could’ve looked up his own nose if he wanted to and always smelled like sour cream - makes a man feel kinda bad about coming in second best. But I did love her, and those years were the happiest of my life.”

“Hey, we’re not good enough for you? Not keepin’ you in the lifestyle and number of socket wrenches to which you’ve become accustomed?”

“Heh. Lookit him trying to wiggle away.”

“Jeez.”

Hubert held up his hands disarmingly. “It’s okay. I won’t say nothin’ more about it. It’s your own business and no one else’s.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Jesse said, sitting down in the booth and starting in on his breakfast. Hubert settled down across the table from him, turned to look out the window, his shoulders more stooped now than they had been two years ago.

“He seems nice,” he said after a while, taking out a filthy oil rag and using it to – for lack of a better word – clean his glasses.

“Huh?” Jesse said, through a mouthful of bacon.

“Your young man. He seems nice.” He pursed his mouth thoughtfully. “A bit hoity-toity at times, but nice.”

Jesse swallowed and didn’t ask how he knew. “...he is.”

“The nice or the hoity-toity part?”

Jesse remembered Hanzo grumbling into the pillow; he grinned, defenseless. “It  has to be one or the other?”

Hubert leaned forward and patted his shoulder. “You’re done for, kiddo.”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. Well. Don’t you worry, I ain’t telling anyone.” Hubert made a low, pained sound as he got up, his leg briefly giving under him before he got it under control. “I expect you got what you were actually sent there for too?”

“Out back,” Jesse said, gesturing with a thumb over his shoulder. “Courtesy of the Swiss government. Might be a bio weapon, actually - nasty stuff. It’s always the quiet ones, ain’t it. Just goes to show you never can tell.”

“You have any trouble?”

Jesse shrugged. “Had to give them the runaround for a while, but it worked out.”

“So nothing… spectacular involved?” Hubert asked skeptically, putting his glasses back on.

Jesse made a face. “I, uh, might have wrecked an ice cream van at one point. Drove it off a pier.”

Hanzo had had a few choice lines about that little stunt.

Hubert’s expression lightened. “Sounds more like you. Alrighty, I’ll go sort through it.”

He started towards the door.

”Hey, Hubert, before I forget.” Jesse tossed the small hologram projector over, and Hubert juggled it precariously until he got a firm hold of it.

”What’s this, then?”

”See for yourself.”

Hubert squinted down at the projector with slight trepidation but managed to find the right button on the third try. The thing started cycling through the various landmarks it was programmed with. ”Huh.”

”Y’know, I figured - if you can’t go get Culture, Culture must come to you.”

Hubert looked down at the model of the Sistine Chapel turning slowly between his hands, then glanced up at Jesse over the rim of his glasses. ”...you’re okay, McCree.”

”Hey,” Jesse said. ”I take the occasional stab at it.”

Hubert didn’t say anything else before leaving, but the small headshake and smile it got him was all Jesse had aimed for. He finished his breakfast without really noticing, his mind off doing its own thing.

A month. A month could be a long time, if you used it right.

He’d better start thinking it through.

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I hear Tom Waits’ ”Ol’ 55” at 3 AM. gdi
> 
> (can you tell that I really love the co-existence of actual murdermachine!mccree and kind of a good kid!mccree? I feel like both of these must have been true on some level when he was younger.)


End file.
